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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29000238">Today of all days</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashyLittleThing/pseuds/TrashyLittleThing'>TrashyLittleThing</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Clone High</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - School Club, Best Friends, Character Death, Friends to Lovers, Grease References, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Pining, nothing explicit just one sentence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:09:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,319</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29000238</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashyLittleThing/pseuds/TrashyLittleThing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>JFK &amp; Ponce "Poncey" de León (Clone High), JFK/Ponce "Poncey" de León (Clone High)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Hear those bells ring deep in your soul</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>JFK wouldn’t admit it, but he didn’t know Ponce as well as people thought he would. Obviously, he knew lots of things, like his guilty pleasures and the sweets he’d buy for movie nights. He knew his shoe size, how he got his beloved leather jacket, the things he was insecure about. He knew every detail about his bike since Ponce loved talking about it and Jack was happy to listen to him. They knew each other their whole lives, they'd been friends through thick and thin, good and bad, and when things got really ugly, Jack knew he could rely on Ponce.</p><p>They had their share of inside jokes, often personal jabs or references to stories that would take months of explaining. Their top few were "Bees?", which was referring to their first game of CaH, and the fateful card of "what do I have shoved up my ass?" ended in tears.</p><p>Another was "1, the number of brain cells we share. 2, the shoulders there are to cry on when you act like an idiot. 3, the times I have to proofread your essays before you submit the first draft and get a C. 4, the times I've had to pretend to like your girlfriend. 5, the number of drinks you can have before passing out", which was an edit of a nursery rhyme they both knew, going through numbers and what they were. They still muttered "1, 2, 3, 4, 5." when one of them was doing something on that list. They eventually added a 6 to that list, which was "the number of times you broke up and got back with Cleo over the course of a month".</p><p>But he didn’t know Ponce’s favourite music, his Spotify was a mess of everything but country. He listened to all sorts of stuff, from musicals to shanties to death metal. He didn’t know what clubs Ponce was in, he always seemed to be in a different one every week. He didn't know Ponce's favorite hot drink, which fucking changed every week because Ponce has never settled on anything except his best friend, his gender, and his bike.</p><p>This all became painfully true during a party, where people started quizzing each other on how well they knew people. Ponce was quizzed on jack and got every single one right, like his sweater’s make and his actual favourite drink, which wasn’t beer but a Manhattan cocktail. Jack, however, barely got half of them right, and he sulked in the bathroom for the rest of the party while Ponce tried to console him. The ones he got right were either common knowledge or something a little easier, like Ponce’s nickname for Jack behind his back (Achilles, because obviously he was built like a Greek hero). It kinda worked, because that’s when Jack found out Ponce’s club – Drama.</p><p>It took him by surprise but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Ponce <em>adored</em> Grease and when the school did their version of it, Ponce went <em>ballistic</em> because they cut his favourite songs. It took a week of watching the original every day in a blanket burrito with popcorn and lemonade to calm him down enough to ignore it. </p><p>It must’ve been that event which prompted him to join. He remembers Ponce screaming at Shakespeare in the corridor for letting them cut fucking <em>Grease Lightning</em> from the performance and didn’t cut a less iconic song. Shakespeare nearly passed out when an actual greaser was here, yelling at him for cutting the best song, but objectively if Ponce loved Grease so much he should’ve auditioned for Danny Zuko four months ago.</p><p>So, from then on, Ponce vanished after school on Thursdays. Jack didn’t mind – he thought Ponce got himself a job – but it made more sense now. Ponce in the drama club, how scandalous for their reputations, but Ponce seemed to love it.</p><p>“You gotta take me with you, one of these days,” Jack said randomly, Ponce raising an eyebrow to say what he couldn’t with a mouthful of baguette. Ponce finished his mouthful of bread and beef before asking Jack what the fuck he meant before taking a drink of apple juice.</p><p>“to the drama club,” Jack said nonchalantly like it wasn’t totally out of character for him. Ponce spat out his juice in surprise, barely missing Jack’s arm in the spray. Ponce stared at him with wide eyes, an unplaceable emotion on his face (jack would describe it as “What the Hell” face. Ponce was making it more and more, lately, what with their exams ahead of them)</p><p>“wanna say that again? I wanna make sure I heard that right, bro” Ponce wiped his mouth and kept staring. Jack reiterated what he said and Ponce starter nervously laughing. </p><p>“you have no idea what you’re getting into, they’re batshit in there” Ponce protested. “But you’re there, and I want to spend more time with you,” Jack replied, his big doe eyes telling no lies to his best friend.</p><p>Ponce’s eyes softened, he was genuinely touched by what Jack said. He pushed his confusion to the back of his mind, now focusing on that jack wanted to be a better friend than he already was. It was very sweet of him, but was he prepared for the shitstorm that was the theatre department?</p><p>For the next week, Ponce sat Jack through an ungodly number of musicals and plays, some less legally found than others, and quizzed him on the characters and their importance – he made sure Jack wasn’t going to have jokes go over his head and get embarrassed.</p><p>Ponce knew the club members well, they were his friends, and there was always something to joke about or laugh at. The club leader was Shakespeare, with Joan of Arc as his vice, and the rest of the members were a mix of people. Dante and Virgil were there, Vincent painted backgrounds, Theo (Vincent’s brother) acted as a stage designer, and everyone else there was Julius, Catherine, Cleo, Abe, Gandhi, Homer, Wilde and Ripper. They were good friends, all of them bonded and it was fun. Ponce still got on Shakespeare’s case about cutting Grease Lighting, but all was forgiven after the club’s contributions to a riot – they were by no means a quiet bunch.</p><p>So, Jack interacting with this rioting, loud, niche crowd was going to be strange. </p><p>Jack spent the next day or so learning about the club best he could. His dads went to all their shows and recorded the performances, which were actually rather good. Jack saw Ponce on the stage along with the other members and laughed as Ponce adamantly refused to sing or, as his dad put it, "dance like a lunatic". </p><p>But he could see that Ponce was having fun, and laughed along with him as they watched Julius snatch him off the ground and shove him over his shoulder like a pillow - "that wasn't scripted and he got what he deserved" Ponce told Jack about the night in question, where Julius picked him up for comic relief and got a bloody nose from the short greaser.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The most dangerous thing is to love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>More of the tale between the most iconic of best friends. and how they came to be.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW: car crash, character death, slight trauma</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ponce cared for Jack. That was obvious. What wasn’t obvious was how dearly Ponce loved his best friend. It was more than a brotherhood, they’d been with each other their whole lives and it wasn’t bound to stop any time the boys could imagine.</p><p>It started when they were young, very young, barely a few years old. Jack’s parents, Carl and Wally, had just moved into a new house with their young son, and what do you know, the neighboring couple had a boy their son’s age. </p><p>Carl invited their neighbors over, only Glen and his family giving them the time of day. It was hard for them, a middle-aged gay couple with a young, energetic boy as their son, and they were thankful that there was someone who didn’t think they were disgusting.</p><p>Glen was lovely, he was polite and always smiling. His wife was just as polite and sweet, their bond as tight as Carl and Wally’s. Both couples spent the whole day talking to each other, trading stories, recipes, and tips.</p><p>Meanwhile, their two boys were in the garden, making mud pies. By the time the parents noticed, they were filthy. They were bathed after they were caught (even for a toddler, they could run fast) and they splashed everywhere. Carl still has pictures of the pair, and when he took it, Glen mentioned that they looked so happy together, like they were best friends already.</p><p>It was when the boys were 5 that Ponce’s mother passed away. She died in her sleep, peacefully and quietly from injuries sustained from a car crash. Glen and Ponce stood there silent, Ponce not understanding where his mom was, and Glen trying not to collapse into tears in front of his son. He had to be strong, for him, for-</p><p>Glen was pulled from his thoughts when he heard his name called. He turned to see Wally and Carl standing there, Ponce had already run off and was hugging his best friend so tight it must have been hard to breathe. Glen let himself cry, his two good friends consoling him gently as his beloved wife was covered by unfair soil. </p><p>Ponce sobbed into Jack’s shoulder that day, and for many days afterward. He still found it hard to talk about. Jack always listened to him and let him know that he wasn't alone in his mourning and loss. Ponce didn't say it then, he didn't have the words, but even just his company was enough for the pain to go away for a little while, Jack helping him remember the good times and memories he had of his mother.</p><p>Which made Jack getting into a crash <em>harrowing.</em></p><p>It had been during a drag race, for a chance to date some broad (Ponce thought that in and of itself was stupid, <em>really</em> Jack? A drag race for a girl?). Kennedy had overturned his car during the race, as the other competitor fucking <em>slept</em>. Ponce got the call a minute after the initial crash and nearly collapsed on the ground, memories of his late mother returning to him as he heard that his best friend was in the hospital fighting for his life. He grabbed his father’s keys and ran out the door, Glen tried to ask what happened, but Ponce didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop, everything was a hazy blur. Jack could be dying, and he didn’t want to lose him, lose his last moments.</p><p>Ponce reached the hospital as Jack did, running to the ambulance and begging to make sure Jack was alive, dear <em>god</em>, be okay-</p><p>Jack went into surgery three hours later, those three hours he was in a state of shock and confusion. He recognized Ponce quickly and reached out to him, but his arm wouldn’t move – it was broken. Ponce saw him try and picked up his unbroken arm and held his hand, never wanting to let go again. It was when Jack left for the surgery that he realized that he loved him. 16 years of friendship, he thought nothing could surprise him anymore, but alas Jack had done it again.</p><p>When Jack came out of the hospital, Ponce helped take care of him. Taking notes to him from class (in the full knowledge that Jack wouldn’t use them), telling him the latest drama and gossip to keep him up to date, doing everything he could for his friend. It was the least he could do. Even after he healed up, Ponce was wary of Jack driving. Abe, who had won the race, now had a target painted on his back for Ponce- it was this bastard who challenged Jack to something that damn near killed him.</p><p>Until he found out someone had tampered with Jack’s car for its breaks to stop working. Ponce spent days seeking them out secretly, nobody knew but him, and once he got a name, it was marked for death. It was the clone of Carl Benz, that sick shit. Turned out, Abe had passed him $40 to make sure he won the race, and win he did, to the point he could fucking <em>sleep</em> on the road while Jack nearly bled out.</p><p>Ponce found the house and proceeded to steal the key from under the doormat. Leaving a threatening note with untraceable writing, he threatened them with either coming clean about their business on the side or have something important to them harmed.</p><p>Benz didn’t come clean and shit hit the fan. His nudes were leaked, his stash of raisins was found, the people he’d been paid by were named and shamed from the logbook he kept of his clients, his teachers learned of a string of cheating on tests, his life came crumbling down around him. As Benz was led away in handcuffs, Ponce stood there smug as could be. He hid it, though, looking as disappointed as his classmates as Benz was arrested for several attempted murder charges.</p><p>Jack never had proof of it, but he was sure Ponce did that.</p><p>Now here they were, on their way to the school's drama department.</p><p>"Brace yourself, Jackie. This is gonna be a long day for you."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>it's shorter than I wanted it to be but yeah this is a fun one</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Welcome to the cult</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jack enters the club and both boys think about how they feel, meanwhile the next play is announced and the newest member is cast as the lead</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ponce pressed the door open, as Jack stood back. Ponce kicked the doorstop into place and looked back at jack, a glint of something in his eyes that he couldn’t quite place nor fully trust.</p>
<p>As the door opened, the crowd of people inside turned to look, as music blasted from the phone on the desk. It was a big room, about twice the size of a classroom, and it was filled with old props, backgrounds and-</p>
<p>People were dancing.</p>
<p>Ponce seemed to spring up, he threw his leather jacket onto a table, grabbed Jack by the wrist, and dragged him into the fray. Some people were in costumes, others were just in their clothes, and-</p>
<p>Jack recognised this song. </p>
<p>Ponce had mentioned that it represented the whole club.</p>
<p>A gang of chaos, trickery, rebellion, afterparties.</p>
<p>“Welcome to the cult of Dionysus!” the speakers yelled along with the aforementioned ‘cult’. In the fray, Jack had lost Ponce, but he soon appeared on the stage before them.</p>
<p>Shirtless.</p>
<p>Ponce was an attractive boy, there was no debating that. He was slim, fairly toned, and had a cluster of tattoos on his body. He got his first one at 16, a stick and poke anchor on his wrist, and for his 18th, his dad had taken him to get a proper one – a beautiful fountain on his back, surrounded by roses creeping over his shoulders. He had others dotted around, some before his 18th, and his newest one he only got two months ago. A ship on his left peck, with blue waves to sail it away. Jack thought it was beautiful.</p>
<p>But something about it was different. Ponce was up on the stage, in his boots and jeans, dancing along to the song like nobody was watching. He was joyous, he was having fun, letting go. Jack was desperately trying to distract himself from his shirtless friend, so to stop himself staring, he turned back to dancing.</p>
<p>He didn’t notice Ponce come up behind him. He certainly felt Ponce smack his ass so hard he yelped over the music. He also felt Ponce’s arms snake around his waist and his chin on his shoulder- was Ponce flirting? He was nearly scarlet when the song ended, and Ponce put that cursed shirt back on.<br/>For the next hour, Jack was introduced to everyone in the club and the newest production was announced. </p>
<p>Half of the club welcomed him with open arms, like Joan, who did most of the introducing while Ponce talked to Shakespeare about the upcoming play. Vincent’s brother, Theo, wasn’t an immediate fan of the jock, but he was polite and made it clear that rules were to be followed, and one of the top rules was “Don’t make Vincent cry or you’ll be hunted by his brother for sport”.</p>
<p>Ponce was talking to Shakespeare and sorting out their new member. Sorting out the form, Ponce found it surprisingly easy to find out Jack’s rough proportions and size for costumes, like he wasn’t using his own arms as a frame of reference for Jack’s waist and chest. Jack and him often watched movies, and it was fine that Jack fell asleep on Ponce’s chest half of the time, Ponce didn’t mind, he liked holding him, carding his hands through his hair, watching him stir and his eyes flutter awake when Ponce nudged him. Love was the word, but Ponce was going to ignore that for a little while longer.</p>
<p>“With the help of some songwriters and scriptwriters, we’ve came up with an original production this year – Based on The Iliad, this year’s performance is The Song of Achilles!” Shakespeare announced, “And our darling Greaser and his Himbo have already been chosen as Patroclus and Achilles respectively – Ponce, you’ve not had a lead since the Grease reboot, and Jack, I’m sure you’ll do fine, Achilles is never on stage without Patroclus.”</p>
<p>So that’s why Shakespeare needed all those measurements – Achilles’ armour. Ponce had read the book, he liked reading about mythology (Homer’s fault, he got Ponce to read Percy Jackson last year and now he was reading epics like the Aeneid for fun). Ponce called Jack Achilles a few times, it was fitting, Achilles was athletic and described as handsome, and Jack was also athletic and handsome. Then he recalled a conversation he had with Homer over whether or not Achilles and Patroclus were a ‘thing’, to which the answer was “obviously, they’re definitely boyfriends, what are you, a straight historian? ‘good friends’ my ass”</p>
<p>Ponce seemed to giggle, “Aren't those two fucking?”. Shakespeare rolled his eyes, “Achilles and Patroclus were probably fucking, just like half of the club thinks you and Jack are fucking. It fits, take the role.”</p>
<p>That sent the club into laughter. Ponce joined in on the laughing, like Jack couldn’t see him blushing. Ponce tended to dance around his feelings, like Jack, but when it came to their relationship and giving it a label, he was always avoiding it best he could. Jack didn’t hold it against him – labels meant change, and they weren’t quite ready for change yet.</p>
<p>“We’ll see how it goes when he gets the toga on, easy- er, uh- access and all that” Jack laughed, which amplified the laughter and Ponce nearly choking on his own spit. </p>
<p>Ponce fired back, “Bold of you to assume I’ll be the one bending over, your ass is mine” and the laughter erupted again. Jack took it one step further, and just straddled Ponce’s lap, whispering to him to get his shirt off and to get him into a storage cupboard after club time was over. Ponce barely heard, he was too busy giving Jack a hickey to pay attention. They did random shit like this, it kept the student body on their toes when it came to them – some thought they were dating, other said they were Friends With Benefits, others said they were messing with everyone and they were both single.</p>
<p>What they were was… complicated. Ponce was gay, that they knew, but Jack was tougher to figure out. They’d experimented with each other, which was the best BJ Jack had ever received and the first time he’d ever had a dick in his own mouth (but certainly not the last). They flirted playfully, and Jack probably slept with girls, and Ponce was probably seeing other guys. Probably. They weren’t exclusive, they just existed in the same space.</p>
<p>So, if the characters they were playing were dating, then this performance was going to be a rather interesting one for everyone involved</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>happy valentines day, have some JFPonce pining</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>more brainrot and also i wont let this fandom die</p></blockquote></div></div>
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